


Promise Kept

by SylvanMoon



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Machi is the tsundere of all tsunderes, Mild Blood, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, mild spoilers for recent manga chapters, starts out non-con but really isn't, talkative Hisoka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 07:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16363199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanMoon/pseuds/SylvanMoon
Summary: "You can imagine Chrollo if you want," he says teasingly.She can't. Every cell in her body is painfully aware that it's him. He's completely enveloped her with his touch, taste, and voice, it's actually difficult to think of anythingbuthim. She's peeved that he's made her realize this, despite suggesting the complete opposite. The truth pierces through the glare she sends him and Hisoka laughs huskily."Well, then, I give you permission to scream my name."





	Promise Kept

**Author's Note:**

> Yey, first fic on AO3 and first HunterxHunter too!
> 
> Okay, I know this is an overly used concept but I really just wanted to write Hisomachi smut and this fic has been languishing in my Evernote for ages. I gotta get this out before one of them eventually kills the other.

It comes back to haunt her, what she said to him.

 

 

_You won't be able to but if you do, I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth and kill you._

 

At the time, it wasn't merely bravado speaking. She meant every word and she was nothing if not confident in her abilities. Nothing was more important to her than the Danchou. The rest of the Spiders only came a close second.

 

But he had cut off its legs one by one. First Kortopi, then Shalnark. It still eats at her insides that she could've stopped it before any of this had happened. She'd been there. He'd resurrected and she'd just turned her back like a total idiot and told him to pick his battles next time. She should've done something. Like, cut up his body into tiny little pieces with her threads. She replays the events of that day over and over and dismembers his body in her fantasies a different way each time. The reality, of course, is another story entirely.

 

The others had followed. And finally, even the head was decapitated. It had been a long, arduous battle, one that would go down in history had there actually been any witnesses. She, herself, hadn't been there but Hisoka, ever the showman, had thoughtfully sent her a video of his victory.

 

Just in case she doubted the Danchou's demise.

 

He needn't have bothered. The days leading up to his and Chrollo's final battle had her senses tingling like never before. It was a very bad sign, and she would have been a fool to ignore her instincts.

 

But the Danchou had smiled when she informed him of her misgivings, had thanked her for her loyalty, and said he was proud of the young woman she had become.

 

That was even worse. It was as if he knew... and for the first time in her life, Machi felt powerless. She couldn't stop either of them.

 

That was the last time they talked.

 

She wonders if he kept her last for a reason, why he had even deigned to spare her that first day when he announced his intentions. She knows he harbors some strange fascination for her but she won't delude herself into thinking that it meant anything more.

 

He is an enigma, a puzzle. But one thing she is certain of. The moment she bores him or if whatever kept his attraction to her fades, so would her life.

 

If she was brutally honest with herself, she would admit that she was no match for him. He had single-handedly brought down the whole Troupe, as it was. What could a lone leg do? Poke the clown to death?

 

She's half amused at the direction her thoughts take. A slight twitch to her lip is the closest to a grim smile she makes. If that's what it'll take to kill him, she vows.

 

It isn't like her to be so fatalistic. She'd already accepted death as a possibility since she was twelve, several years after the destruction of Meteor City. She decides that she has nothing to lose. Her family is gone. Danchou is gone. She has no purpose left, nowhere to go. Maybe it is time she joins the rest of the Spiders.

 

She calmly shadows his location from the rooftop, carefully hiding her nen. However, as calm as she appears on the outside, her mind is in overdrive, analyzing possible scenarios, rejecting them one by one, trying to figure out how best to approach the situation. He'd grown exponentially strong after his resurrection. More so after each battle leading up to his fight with the Danchou. She had a snowball's chance in hell, but she would die trying.

 

It had been four months since he had defeated Chrollo. Two years, since he'd killed Kortopi. It had taken her a couple of months to track his whereabouts and finally, he is within arm's reach.

 

Funny how eager she is to die.

 

It baffles her that he hasn't made a move to seek her out in all that time. Was he playing with her? Very likely. Was he waiting for her to seek him out? She said she would. For once, her instincts are silent. She has nothing to work with.

 

She quietly slips through an unlocked window, in an empty room, several doors away from what she believes is his suite. Before she can even turn around to assess her location, sweat gathers on her forehead.

 

She's not as surprised as she probably should be to find him patiently waiting for her. No matter how careful she is, no matter all her preparations, no matter her skills, he is five steps ahead of her.

 

It irks her to no end.

 

He smiles pleasantly, like he knows how much she hates it,  tips an imaginary hat by way of greeting and says,

 

"Yo."

 

He's casually leaning by the door. The room is entirely dark, save for a patch of moonlight that falls on half his face and chest. The placement is deliberate. He makes sure she can see his face. Makes sure she sees him licking his lips in anticipation.

 

She shakes off her temporary paralysis. It's not good to show the prey that the hunter is rattled. She is supposed to be the predator here.

 

"Hisoka."

 

The way she says his name comes out cold, nonchalant, betraying nothing of her inner turmoil. Her face is as serene as ever, eyes sharp and narrowed to slits.

 

"Did you like it?" He asks, referring to the video he sent. She completely ignores his question. Deems it unworthy of an answer.

 

"I'm here to kill you." She states, instead.

 

He tsks. "How boring," Hisoka drawls. "Weren't you the least bit impressed? It was one of the best moments of my life."

 

Fighter that she is, she's hard-pressed not to agree with him. It had been a spectacular battle. The whole time, she'd been riveted by both their skills, strategy, and grace, not that she would ever let him know.

 

In a split second, she releases strands of her nen threads, aiming for his throat with pinpoint precision.

 

He doesn't even move a muscle, simply lets her threads wrap around his neck. He's grinning, the bastard. She feels her initial nervousness dissipate and is replaced by irritation. He's always had that effect on her.

 

Pest.

 

"What's so funny?" She growls at him. "I should just slice your head off."

 

His grin widens. Taunts her by lifting a single brow, eyes dancing.

 

That's when she realizes she can't move her hands, can't even lift a finger. Machi looks down and his Bungee Gum is covering both her arms, restricting movement. When had he-

 

"Contract."

 

Instantly, she is drawn by his nen towards him so that they are almost chest to chest and she finds herself staring straight at a pair of devious, glinting eyes.

 

Somehow, she realizes she's holding her breath. Her senses are heightened; she's suddenly assaulted by a barrage of utterly useless information.  His scent,  the feel of his hard chest each time she breathes, the warmth radiating from his body,  that magnetic gaze keeping her captive.

 

She's never been this close to him before, not even when she's patching him up.

 

He languidly observes her. Oh, she is magnificent, his little spitfire. She is a study in contradictions, with her candy-colored hair and deadly threads. Ice cold demeanor but with enough compassion that she felt compelled to silently watch over Pakunoda's grave for hours. Her dislike of him ran deep, but still, she offered gratitude for helping return her beloved Danchou's nen. And she kept her end of the deal to stitch him up after his death. Had he won against Chrollo that first time, would she have still honored their transaction?

 

He studies her intently. Both of them knew he could kill her in a heartbeat but here she was, the one actively trying to hunt him down.

 

Like she promised she would.

 

So predictable, his Machi. He should be bored with predictability. But she intrigues him.

 

He can't quite put a finger on it, why her strange allure captivates him so. She certainly isn't like his other toys; it isn't bloodlust that draws him to her, though he will undoubtedly savor a fight to the death with her. He loves pissing her off, loves any kind of reaction from her, really. To see that smooth, unemotional mask melt into blinding fury.

 

Like right now. Gorgeous.

 

He takes pride in the fact that he's always been the only one who can draw such raw passion from her. He decides that it isn't her body he wants to break. It's her spirit.

 

She's so close, he can smell her delectable scent, like pine and vanilla. He pulls her a little closer until her soft breasts press against his chest. She's screaming bloody murder with her eyes and he can feel her struggling mightily against his nen. She almost succeeds.  Let her think she has a chance. Maybe he should loosen up a bit. Would be more fun that way.

 

He eases his nen, just the tiniest of fractions. Wouldn't want her slicing off his important bits, of course. Already, her silken nen threads are drawing blood.

 

She doesn't disappoint. Not only does she tighten her threads; she attempts to knee him in the groin, at the same time releasing more threads to wrap around his left arm. He's definitely not the only one familiar with bondage.

 

She gives it all she has, or as much as she's able to, with him restricting arm movement. Her legs are free, though, and she makes full use of them, kicking and kneeing and twisting against her bonds. She doesn't land a blow, though, as Hisoka easily evades her attacks.

 

She thinks she probably had a chance against him before his death but now, the difference in their strength is glaringly obvious. He defeated Chrollo, an impossible feat, in her mind. She doesn't stand a chance, not that she cares anymore. She's here to join her family and her Danchou.

 

And Hisoka, with his keen intellect, knows exactly what she's trying to do. His Machi is trying her damnedest to get him to kill her as quickly as possible.

 

He plays with her for a while, lets her think what she wants. After five minutes, he's bored. Time to rile her up again.

 

"Did you love him?"

 

The question catches her off guard. What? It takes her a second to comprehend his meaning and her first impulse is to ignore him, but the absurdity of the question nags at her.

 

"None of your business," she says flatly.

 

No, she didn't love him. The Danchou was the Danchou. She looked up to him as a leader, as the head of the family but not as a lover, never even considered it. She didn't think herself his equal or even considered herself a potential partner. She supposes she doesn't have it in her the capacity to love. All she can offer were her skills and undying loyalty.

 

He smiles as if reading her mind. "Didn't think so."

 

"He was family. They were all family. I'm still going to kill you."

 

"I know."

 

His answer causes her blood to boil. She misses them. Not just the Danchou. Feitan, Shizuku, Kortopi... even Nobunaga and hotheaded Phinks. They didn't always see eye to eye but that's how families were supposed to be. Despite everything, they still had each other's backs. The Troupe was the only life she'd ever known. She was going to make him pay or die trying.

 

He has other plans, though. He keeps evading her attacks but maneuvers them both to where he wants her. She's too focused on landing a hit to notice his intentions. A mistake. It's too late when she finds herself flat on her back on the bed, arms and legs bound by bungee gum.

 

Her threads are still around him and with a low growl she goes wild, straining with all her strength to break free or wound him or spit at him. Or _anything_.

 

He watches her efforts gleefully. Somehow, this isn't what he envisioned their confrontation would be but he isn't complaining. This might prove more fun.

 

And definitely satisfying.

 

He experimentally places a hand on her bare knee. "Don't you dare touch me!" Machi hisses contemptuously, pale eyes flashing but Hisoka only smirks, letting his palm explore more of her skin, slowly moving up her thigh.

 

Her breath hitches. Is he.. is he doing what she thinks he's doing? A different kind of panic grips her by the throat. Death, even torture, she can handle, but Hisoka taking advantage of her like this is deeply humiliating because...

 

Because...

 

"Have you ever felt lust, Machi?" He asks, almost conversationally. His golden eyes never leave hers but his hand has switched to her clothes, loosening the obijime around her waist, trailing the thin string through his long, slender fingers as she watches. "Have you done it with any of the Spiders or perhaps as part of a job? Hmm?"

 

She doesn't answer so he continues. "I have, you know. I feel lust when I sense a great potential in someone I can fight. Fighting a strong opponent turns me on very, _very_ much." He leans over her as he says this so she can feel his hot breath fan her ear. She shivers involuntarily. By this point, he has completely untied her obi and it is becoming a struggle to maintain her mask of cool collectedness.

 

"Shut up," she forces through clenched teeth. Normally, she's the one doing the restraining and being tied up herself is unfamiliar territory, but hell if she'd let that show. Save for the Troupe members, she's never come up against anyone who could overpower her. 

 

Until now.

 

She struggles harder than before, pulls against his nen as much as she can but her efforts are futile. Her threads are still wrapped around his throat, arm, and parts of his upper body but only because he lets them stay there and they both knew it. The most she can do is tighten her threads a minuscule fraction which hardly does anything but draw droplets of blood, to her annoyance, and to his delight. Bastard.

 

He smiles down at her, and she notices how the moonlight accentuates the sharpness of his cheekbones, how it casts eerie shadows over the planes of his pale face. Hisoka has never really been terrible-looking. He might even be considered attractive. But tonight, there is only one word that Machi can describe his face.

 

Predatory.

 

He is staring at her with an open hunger that makes her feel things she has no desire to examine too closely, a gaze so intense, so devouring, that she can't look away. It is he who breaks the spell, letting his gaze drop to her chest. To her horror, Machi feels her nipples tighten in response. Slowly, he parts her short kimono. She's still wearing her breast binds and cycling shorts but her abdomen is completely bare. He licks a path across her stomach and Machi's mind starts chanting a mantra.

 

This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be...

 

He can taste the unease on her skin, though there are undercurrents of something.. else. He's not sure if she's even aware of the slight tremble her body gives each time his tongue travels over her flesh. She is avoiding looking at him now, preferring to stare at the ceiling. That simply would not do.

 

A playing card suddenly materializes at his fingertip. That catches her attention.

 

She stares disdainfully as he proceeds to slice through the wrappings covering her breasts, anger her only form of defense now. Her breathing is becoming uneven with each cut, the tension in the air almost a tangible thing. All she can do is glare but Machi refuses to back down. Not from this, and not from him.

 

The magician takes a moment to appreciate her like this. Held down, arms outstretched, breasts heaving, and with such a magnificent expression of pure hatred on her beautiful face. He wants to freeze her in time.

 

A few more slices and her shorts are in shreds, along with her underwear.

 

Machi grits her teeth and attempts to close her legs to his gaze but he holds her immobile with bungee gum. Angry tears of frustration and humiliation form in the corners of her eyes but they don't fall.

 

She loathes this man with every fiber of her being.

 

Hisoka takes a nipple into his mouth while his hand strokes the other mound, rolling the rosy peak between expert fingers. His touch is light, teasing, in stark contrast to the furnace that is his mouth. She lays there, in frustrated silence, fighting a hopeless battle against the tide of arousal rapidly growing in her belly while his hands and mouth ravish her breasts.

 

"Why don't you just kill me?" She whispers to the ceiling.

 

"That would be boring, don't you think?" He says, giving her nipple a little pinch, making her squirm. "Haven't you fantasized about doing it with me at least once? I know I dream of doing it with you. Many times, in fact. I touch myself thinking of you."

 

She really didn't need to know that. Now, she has these totally unwanted images in her head. "I hate you."

 

"Do you? Really?" Hisoka mocks, delicately biting her breast just enough to mark her, but then licks over the area to soothe it.

 

"Fuck you." The insinuation that she feels anything other than raw hatred for him brings some of her spunk back.

 

"Then care to explain this?" His other hand swiftly slips between her thighs, probing her folds and unmercifully circling her sensitive nub. She audibly sucks in a breath, his touch sending her nerve endings on fire. "I haven't even done anything yet and you're already dripping wet, Machi." As if to prove his point, Hisoka eases a long finger inside her. His digit glides in smoothly, lubricated by her juices. "So tight," he muses. "I can hardly get a second finger in. Ah, there we go. Haven't had any action lately? Is that why you're so wet? Or... is it because it's me?"

 

She wants to snap back at him. Really, she does. But he's finger fucking her and playing with her clit and hitting all the right places that it's pretty hard to concentrate. Machi bites down hard on her lower lip to keep from making a sound, but she can't help the small, shallow pants that escape when Hisoka curls his fingers inside her. Part of her, a big part, is disgusted that it is him doing this to her. An even bigger part is greatly ashamed by her own body's reaction to his touch. She feels dirty, defiled, and yet, she's never been this overwhelmingly aware of her own femininity before.

 

"Stop it!"

 

Hisoka raises a single groomed eyebrow but complies with a smirk. He withdraws his fingers, and Machi sags in relief. Still smiling slightly, the magician brings the sticky digits to his mouth and licks them clean. "Delicious".

 

Machi is humiliated to feel another rush of wetness pool between her legs as she watches him. How can her body betray her so? How can she want him despite all he's done? Has she always wanted him this way and only just realized it? Impossible.

 

She hates him, hates him, hates him.

 

But she can't explain why she responds to him. Even now, her body craves the brief but intense contact he let her taste mere seconds ago. She needs to focus, needs to concentrate on killing him, needs to get her traitorous body under control-

 

Hisoka debates removing his own clothes but it's a little difficult to move with her threads still wrapped around him so he leaves them on. She's still not letting up her hold on him, tightening her threads as much as she's able to inflict as much pain on him as she can. A drop of his blood drips down his left arm and falls on her stomach. It's almost poetic, he thinks, how they're literally bound by lust, blood and nen.

 

But they've only just begun. For him, this is a battle of a different level. A significantly more pleasurable one.

 

Hisoka leans down and captures her lips with his in a bruising kiss. Machi stubbornly refuses to open her mouth at first, even as his tongue traces the seam of her lips. But then she bites his lip hard, splitting the tender flesh. Rather than jerk away, the magician chooses the opportunity to slide his tongue inside her mouth, inundating her senses with the intoxicating taste of him mingled with the metallic flavor of fresh blood. The kiss is messy, more a battle of wills than anything, arguably more teeth than tongue, but Hisoka ravages her mouth with a hunger that steals her breath away.

 

Without breaking the kiss, his hands find her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh, even as he runs a thumb over a hardened peak. He finds her continued resistance incredibly arousing despite her body's obvious enjoyment of his attention. For him, seduction is the name of the game. Rape is boring and all too easy. Resorting to rape is as good as admitting defeat. It is the breaking of the body, not the spirit. Definitely not what he has in mind. It is much, much more satisfying to have his prey submit. Perhaps reluctantly, with claws and teeth bared, but submit, all the same.

 

He'll make sure of that.

 

Hisoka grinds his hips against hers, and though still clothed, the undeniable evidence of his desire rubs deliciously against her sex, still sensitive from his earlier stimulation. Machi lets out an involuntary groan at the sensation. She kind of wonders what his skin would feel like against hers before forcefully shoving the stray thought away. Hisoka kisses his way to her slender throat, licking and sucking the smooth skin while one of his hands makes its way between her legs to play with her slit.

 

"You can imagine Chrollo if you want," he says teasingly.

 

She can't. Every cell in her body is painfully aware that it's him. He's completely enveloped her with his touch, taste, and voice, it's actually difficult to think of anything _but_ him. She's peeved that he's made her realize this, despite suggesting the complete opposite. The truth pierces through the glare she sends him and Hisoka laughs huskily.

 

"Well, then, I give you permission to scream my name," the magician lazily drawls, knowing it would annoy her. Machi hisses in mingled irritation and exasperation, futilely straining against her bonds. "Don't you ever shut up?" she gripes.

 

Hisoka chuckles. "I can do other things with my tongue."

 

Ah, _fuck_.

 

Hisoka moves down her form, trailing wet kisses and nipping at her skin until he's hovering over her most intimate of places. Machi realizes she's holding her breath in anticipation when he draws closer and closer, buries his nose between her thighs and-

 

Inhales deeply.

 

"Mmmm. You smell amazing, Machi. Is this all for me?" She flushes a fiery shade of red from head to foot. It's uncanny, how easy it is for him to elicit a roller coaster of emotions from her, famously known for her cold, unemotional personality.

 

"Damn you, Hisoka." His chuckle is muffled against her inner thigh as he proceeds to lick all around her cunt, carefully avoiding the area. He does this for a few minutes until Machi is a trembling mess of frustration and need. It is maddening, how he can play her body like an instrument.

 

"Hisoka.."

 

"Hmmm?" His tongue darts out to teasingly flick at her clit.

 

She's really going to kill him so she tells him so. "I'm _really_ going to kill you."

 

"Not before I fuck you till you forget your own name, though." The sublime promise sends a ripple of desire straight to her core.

 

The magician finally, finally brings his mouth where she needs it most, sucking on her quivering flesh, holding nothing back till Machi can no longer contain the throaty moan that escapes her. Her hips move on their own, rising to meet his hot tongue, chasing the unbelievable sensation each time it sweeps over her clit. She clenches her eyes shut and her mouth falls open, breath coming out in short, shallow bursts. Hisoka inserts two fingers inside her, intensifying the sensual onslaught. She's so tight around his digits and he can't wait to feel her squeezing him in other places. It's a delightful surprise to find her so responsive in bed, quite unlike her normal demeanor. Exquisite taste too, he decides, spreading her labia with two fingers so he can better access her sultry secrets. His hot tongue delves into her folds, leaving no area unexplored, particularly focusing on the small bundle of nerves just above her slit.

 

It's insane, how much toe-curling pleasure his sinful mouth can give her. She's climbing a precipice, helpless to stop the bombardment of sensations coursing through every fiber of her body. Higher and higher she goes, his lips and tongue driving her wild. He gives a particularly strong suck and Machi actually _whimpers_.

 

_Oooh, the sounds she makes_. She probably has no idea she's even making them. He knows she's close, and though he'd love for her to come undone on his tongue, he can't help but toy with her a little longer, prolonging the anticipation.

 

So he stops abruptly and earns himself a dark scowl, though she can't quite mask the arousal in her eyes. He grins at her while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Hisoka reaches below to free himself from the confines of his pants, all the while keeping his gaze on her face. Therefore, he doesn't miss the slight widening of her eyes, nor the split-second appearance of her cute, pink tongue when his erection is freed. He wants to throw back his head and laugh like a maniac, taunt her some more,  but instead pumps himself slowly under her gaze, his ever-present smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

 

Machi swallows, trying to regain some measure of composure. Her mind is in disarray and if someone were to ask what she wanted at this very moment, she'd be evenly split between decapitating him and riding his beautiful cock til she can't walk straight. Unfortunately, the decision isn't up to her as Hisoka rubs the entire length of his cock against her slick cleft, coating himself with her fluids, but doesn't enter her. His member glides easily; she's so wet that the head almost slips in a couple of times. He taps his dick on her clit in quick succession which causes Machi to arch her back with a mewl, hips mindlessly urging for more.

 

"So dirty, little Machi." He croons. "How badly do you want this inside you?"

 

Blue eyes flash, even as she lifts her hips to grind herself against his groin. "I swear, I'll stitch your lips together, clown." This time, he does laugh uproariously, increasing her ire tenfold. "And I swear, you'll be riding me of your own free will before the night is through."

 

That might actually come to pass, Machi thinks sullenly. Damn him. Desire was eating her alive. She's so aroused, it's an immense relief when she finally feels him slowly penetrate her. The stretch is glorious but he's moving much too slow for her liking. She tries to tell him this with her body but Hisoka refuses to hurry, taking his sweet time, steadily inching his way within her slick heat until Machi is sure she will scream if he's not completely inside her in the next two seconds.

 

God, but it's a crime how utterly amazing he feels inside her, large and hard, filling her deliciously. She should be shamed by this, by how wanton she's acting towards her enemy, but it is just so very hard to care right now, not when she's never been so sopping wet for anyone like this.

 

Especially when he withdraws halfway and plunges back again with slightly more force. Machi gasps, so Hisoka repeats the action until they settle into a lazy rhythm. She wants him to go harder, faster but the magician is adamantly keeping the pace steady.

 

"Do you have any idea how good you feel around me?" he asks her. "So hot and tight, gripping me exquisitely."

 

If it's anything even remotely like the way he feels inside her, then she probably has a very good idea. Instead, in a very Machi way, she tries to goad him into fucking her brains out. "Hmph, is this all you're capable of? I've had better."

 

A lie.

 

In her younger days in Meteor City, she'd been preoccupied with simply surviving. When the troupe was formed, she hadn't really felt the need or desire to be that close to anyone, even with fellow troupe members. She simply wasn't interested. Add to the fact that by then, she could literally beat up any guy who even looked at her wrong. There were a few persistent idiots she sent home with their tails between their legs, but other than that, she didn't exactly have a line of suitors to expand her knowledge of this particular area.

 

Hisoka pauses in the middle of suckling her nipple to chuckle at her statement. "That's not very nice. And you're a pretty bad liar." He gives her a smug look. "I'm blowing your mind right now." Before she can come up with a suitable retort to deflate that massive ego of his, Hisoka lifts one of her legs over his shoulder and thrusts deeply into her. The new angle lets him hit a spot that has Machi sputtering incoherently.

 

"Ah, _fuck_.. that's.. that's... _aaahhh_."

 

"Yes? I didn't quite catch that?"

 

_That_ brings her back to Earth. "You bastard..." The rest of her sentence is left unfinished as he continues to thrust into her, wave upon wave of sensation carrying her ever upwards to the summit he's guiding her towards. It takes a bit longer, given the slow, steady pace, but soon enough, Machi is nearing her peak again. She's really close, all senses focused on the feel of him sliding within her. She's almost there, only-

 

_What in the blazing hell?_

 

Hisoka has completely pulled out. Quicker than her disoriented (and sexually frustrated) mind can process, he flips her around. Her nen threads have long since dissolved into nothing some time after she's begun responding to him (they were practically useless anyway and she's kind of distracted), making it easier for him to maneuver them both. Still, Machi glares indignantly at the new position, though the effect is pretty much ruined with her ass up in the air. Her arms are bound behind her back by bungee gum and Hisoka has a hand on her nape, firmly pressing her upper body into the mattress. He adds more gum over her shoulders to keep her in place and then grabs hold of her hips to position himself behind her. It's degrading, Machi thinks, to be put on display like this, adding it to her fast-growing list of things Hisoka will pay dearly for. And he will pay for them.

 

After he makes her cum.

 

Maybe twice.

 

She's so stubborn, he muses with a smirk. He can feel her resentment in the tension of her muscles and she's probably glaring at him again. Pity, he can't see her expression. He's sure she'll forgive him soon enough, though.

 

Without warning, he gives her what she wants, taking her roughly from behind, hard and fast, hips slapping madly against her ass. The bed creaks noisily but neither of them notices. He pulls her up by the elbows, bungee gum stretching obediently to his whims, so he can see her face reflected in the mirror at one end of the bed. Hooded blue eyes meet half-lidded gold and they stare at each other for a long moment while Hisoka continually pounds her, shafting her sex pleasurably with each thrust.

 

A pale hand snakes around her neck, cutting off her air supply. Machi does not so much as blink, only keeps staring at him. She wonders if he's planned this all along, if this is how she's finally killed. She's feeling a little lightheaded from the lack of oxygen but there's a euphoric, almost hallucinogenic rush heightening her pleasure that she can't explain. She's heard of this phenomenon, but this is the first time she's actually experienced it. Her orgasm takes her completely by surprise. She comes hard, insides convulsing rhythmically around his cock. The hand on her throat loosens its hold but Machi is still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax.

 

Hisoka is grinning from ear to ear, obviously pleased with himself. She simply rolls her eyes but doesn't feel the inclination to insult him. He's still hard when he extricates himself from her. She absentmindedly notes that he's recalled his gum, leaving her free to move, but she is boneless at the moment. Belatedly, she realizes he never fully undressed. For some reason, this annoys her. Her needle whips out, slicing through his clothes with admirable dexterity. Of course, she draws blood, too. A gash on the cheek, a cut on the abdomen (admittedly sculpted, though she would never, ever give voice to that thought), a vicious wound on the thigh. Her little rebellion is no better than foreplay, nonetheless.

 

Hisoka quirks an amused eyebrow at her. "Do you want to touch me? I'd love for you to touch me, you know."

 

"Shut up."

 

She's lying on her stomach, face pointedly turned away from him. Oh, but he's not done with her yet. Hisoka moves to cover her much smaller body with his, flicking her bubblegum hair to the side so he can suck on her pretty neck. Machi is certain he'll leave marks in the morning. His hands slide beneath them both to fondle her breasts, erection pressing insistently against her ass, and she's reminded that he hasn't come yet, not like she really cares, anyway.

 

Against her will, his continued stimulation evokes faint stirrings of arousal in her, despite the explosive orgasm she's just had, and there's truly no hiding the fact that she wants him again. His erection slides between her thighs, entering her. He doesn't thrust though, just stays nestled inside her heat.

 

"I want to make you come over and over, tonight." He says in her ear.

 

In that instant, Machi makes a decision. She's tired being submissive and it is _hella_ annoying how he has complete control of the situation. With a sudden burst of strength (she's not the 6th in the arm wrestling ranking for nothing), she pushes the magician off of her, dislodging him from her body. Their positions are suddenly reversed, with Hisoka flat on his back, silken strands of nen binding his arms, legs, and neck while Machi is straddling him, one hand flat on his chest, and eyes narrowed to slits.

 

_Oh?_ is all he says, unperturbed and tone only mildly interested, hard cock proudly standing at attention between them.

 

She should kill him right now, wipe that damnable smirk off his lips for all eternity, slice his head clean off, or cut off his limbs until he bleeds to death. Deep down, she knows it won't be that easy so she does none of that. Instead, she slowly trails the hand on his chest down his muscular body, past his lean hips, and curls it around his turgid length, still slightly sticky from being inside her. She gives him long, unhurried strokes and is rewarded when he jerks a few times into her hand. She fondles his balls next, cupping them and testing their weight. There's a moment when she squeezes them hard, making him wonder if she's going to castrate him. Machi holds his gaze for a second and there's no doubt the thought crossed her mind, too, before releasing him, and resuming her leisurely exploration of his nether regions. He watches her through half-lidded eyes, enjoying her touches, curious to see what she plans on doing next.

 

Two loud raps on the door make both of them turn as one.

 

"Hisoka, I'm a bit early~" a familiar voice starts to say as he opens the door a fraction, but is cut off abruptly. Though the room is dark, there's just enough illumination to make out the two figures on the bed; however it's not the intimate scene before him that makes the newcomer freeze in his tracks, rather it's the three needles hovering mere centimeters from his left eye that do.

 

"Get out." Machi orders.

 

"My, my." Appearing completely unconcerned despite nearly having his eye gouged out, Illumi remarks, "How lovely of Machi to visit you. You seem to be occupied right now, I suppose I'll come back another time, then." The door clicks shut and Hisoka quips "Pity. We should've asked him to join us," oblivious to the barely contained bloodlust radiating dangerously from the deceptively beautiful woman on top of him.

 

Machi punches him hard enough to make him spit blood. "Asshole, you knew Illumi was coming and you left the door unlocked!"

 

"I didn't exactly plan this, you know... but you're such a delectable flower, how can I help it?" Hisoka says smoothly. "That punch just made me even harder for you, Machi. And challenging Illumi like that? So hot."

 

"Aren't you married to Illumi?"

 

"It's more of a business arrangement. Or contract killing, whichever you prefer."

 

"That's almost romantic for you."

 

"Oh? Are you jealous?"

 

"Are you asking me to cut off your cock?" Machi retorts venomously.

 

Hisoka laughs. "You love my cock." She looks like she might follow through with her threat so he continues, voice dropping an octave. "Rest assured you have my undivided attention tonight, Machi."

 

"Let me make a few things clear, clown." Machi takes one of her needles and runs the business end of it across his chest, leaving a trail of dotted pinpricks in its wake. She feels his excitement build in the way his cock throbs against her belly. "I may not be able to kill you now, but I promise you I will get stronger, even if I have to die and come back as you did." Hisoka smiles, licking his lips. "And then, I'll kill you."

 

"I'd like that." It's an echo of the past, a renewal of her promise made so long ago. But this time, she intends to keep it.

 

Machi reaches down, firmly grips the base of his shaft and guides him to her entrance. She impales herself on him inch by delicious inch, and when he's buried to the hilt, they both groan. "Don't come inside me," she warns and then proceeds to ride him with an intensity normally reserved for her surgical techniques. Hisoka just smiles that irritating smile of his, focuses nen on his arms, gives a powerful tug, and frees himself from her threads. Machi frowns, files that information away and resolves to strengthen her threads for their inevitable confrontation.

 

Hisoka grabs hold of her hips and slams her to him, making Machi gasp at the depth of his penetration. Their coupling is wild and frenzied, with her scratching and raking her nails all over his body, occasionally drawing blood and Hisoka leaving bite marks and bruises on hers, all the while whispering seductively in her ear how beautiful she is, and how she excites him and how good she makes him feel. She gives as good as she gets, matching him thrust for thrust, and when he captures her lips in a searing kiss, she returns it fiercely, boldly licking inside his mouth. Hisoka reaches between them to stroke her clit, prompting Machi to let out a shuddering moan.

 

It's totally unintentional, and she doesn't actually scream it, but she does breathlessly utter his name loud enough for him to hear when she comes harder than she's had before. Hisoka joins her, shooting hot cum in short spurts, a triumphant, diabolical grin plastered on his face.

 

It's only when she gets down from her high, several moments later,  with warm, sticky fluid dripping down her thighs that Machi realizes he came inside her, the infuriating bastard.

**Author's Note:**

> So.. anyone wanna be in Machi's place? *grins cheekily*
> 
> Fun fact: A fan has apparently measured the size of Hisoka's schwing and concluded that he is hung like a horse.


End file.
